My back straightens as I remember I don’t have to be that anymore. I’m new, and I’m living my life on my terms.
A strange thrumming in my gut forces me to pause on the landing, and my body is overcome with restlessness.
Shaking off the feeling, I enter Gigi’s bedroom. A rustling comes from the bathroom.
“Gigi, I'm here,” I announce again, so I don’t scare her. The rustling stops.
The thrumming in my body doubles, and I feel an uncharacteristic heat in my veins. I look at the trees outside; it’s growing dark. I’m probably just hungry. We can whip something up from the fully stocked kitchen and I’ll feel better.
I swallow and go on, “Like I said before, I can only stay through tomorrow. I need to get back and study for finals. I may need to do some studying here too.”
She moves in the bathroom, but doesn’t respond.
The furniture here is black and modern except for the massive four poster bed. At least twenty fluffy pillows cover the pristine white bedspread, and hand carved wood spirals toward the ceiling at each corner. I wrap my hands around one of the posts, my fingers tracing the designs.
Sweet fae lords, when was the last time I did my nails? They are chipped to hell.
“I hope you aren’t upset I can’t stay the whole weekend.”
Still no answer. No movement either.
I frown. “You okay Gigi?” I take a step forward, but before I get any closer, a man steps out of the bathroom. He fills the door frame in a way my five-foot-two Gigi never could.
The thick knit sweater pulls against his muscular chest and shoulders down to the taper of his stomach. Fabric strands unravel into small holes here and there. Voluminous, silver hair, dark at the roots, falls just above his shoulders.
My breath hitches as I try to discern whether it’s my insane hormones or if he actually is as gorgeous as I think he is.
Yeah, it’s not just my hormones.
His beauty is layered in complexity. Four scars, long healed, run through one eye and split his eyebrow. The dark scruff on his strong jaw only adds to his air of masculine power and ruggedness.
The man is utterly magnetic and my body wobbles, wanting to find safe shore in those strong arms.
The dark gray orbs under his scars scan me up and down. They emanate danger, violence, and sex. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looks like he wants to eat me up. And with the intense vibrations running through my body, I’m liable to let him. Instead, I state the obvious.
“You’re not my Gigi.”
Chapter4
What Big Feet You Have
BREXLEY
Magic smells. It’s something only Weres know. Usually, it’s not pleasant. It overpowers, it stings, and can even be rancid, which is why I normally steer clear of the magic cities. I prefer the clean scents of pine and rushing rivers.
But the stench is also part of what makes me so efficient. The moment I step into the radius of a mage city, I want to get gone. I don’t dick around; I play to win.
I check out the old lady’s bathroom trash bin for any clues about where she has gotten to. The damn trash is empty and the house is spotless. Remnants of Grandma’s magic lingers in the air; violets and rubbing alcohol. However, the scent is faint, and the house was empty when I arrived. She hasn’t been here in months.
While my sensitive nose is grateful for the respite, it means I’m far from finishing this job and going home.
The tip I got told me she’d be here already, but perhaps I’m too early. I need to get out of here and hole up until Grandma arrives.
She couldn’t have picked a more convenient spot, what with it being a house of glass. No one will notice me watching from the woods, just another wolf in the wild.
As I set the bin back down, something strange pulses under my skin, making my stomach flip flop with excitement. Like my body knows something big is about to happen before I do.
“Gigi, I’m here.” A feminine voice with a slight rasp to it, announces herself.
